


High Concerns

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Barba and Benson, stuck in an elevator. Weed gummies. I don't know. Hahaha.





	High Concerns

“I swear to God, Barba, if you push that button one more time…”

“It’s sticky,” he snapped, glaring at her. “Maybe it’s just—”

“They’re all sticky, I guess,” she shot back. “Why don’t you try to relax. They’ll get us out of here as soon as they can.”

“Sure. Or we’ll plummet to our deaths,” he said, rolling his shoulders as he fought his urge to jab the buttons again. “Either way.”

“You know, your optimism is just… _so appreciated_ right now. Really,” she answered.

He shot her another look, although there was at least a trace of humor this time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me, I just didn’t think it would be this soon.”

She laughed, looking down at her phone. “You’re not dying today,” she said. She grimaced. “I do have bad news, though.”

“They’re not delivering my pizza?” She smiled indulgently, but he saw the tightness in her expression. “What?” he asked.

“It’s going to be at least an hour before the crew can get to us.”

“An hour?” he repeated, staring at her. His throat worked as he struggled to swallow. “We’ve already been here an hour.”

“It’s been ten minutes.”

The rest of her words hit him on a delay. “What do you mean, _at least_?” He looked at his watch. “It’s almost six o’clock. Maybe they’ll remember us in the morning—”

“Calm down,” she said.

He hooked a finger into the knot of his tie and tugged to loosen it. “I am calm,” he answered, even though she could clearly see the sweat beaded on his forehead.

“I’ve never known you to be claustrophobic,” she said, watching as he started to pace the small area.

“I’m not,” he said, practically spitting the words. When she answered with nothing but silence, he glanced at her and waved a hand in the air. “It’s usually moving, you know,” he muttered.

“We’ll be fine,” she told him, and he had enough presence of mind to notice the way she’d pitched her voice into the _soothing someone on the edge of hysteria_ tone he’d heard her use dozens of times. He scowled, pulling at his tie again as he paced. “It’s an elevator, not—”

“A dangling deathtrap about to double as a dual casket?” he suggested, and she was surprised into a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, we’re only a floor and a half up, we might survive that, right?”

“Rafael,” she said. “Look at me.”

He glanced at her. “I know. Irrational fears, et cetera. Save it, Liv. I’m fully aware of how counterproductive it would be to panic.”

“Just breathe, alright? I don’t need you passing out on me.”

“I’ve never passed out in my life,” he grumbled, pacing. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s hot in here.”

“It’s not,” she countered, but he was already peeling off his blazer.

“It is. Like the heat’s cranked up,” he said, shrugging out of his suspenders so they hung in loops below his hips.

“The power’s out,” she reminded him gently. She was glad the emergency lights had kicked on—she couldn’t imagine how panicked he might be if they’d been stranded in the dark.

“Okay,” he agreed absently, licking at his lower lip as he repeatedly crossed the small space. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, sounding for all the world like he was trying to convince himself. After a moment he shook his hands out, spreading his fingers in the air. “Irrational,” he repeated.

“Just breathe,” she said again. “Slow, deep breaths. It’s just a power outage. There’s no emergency. As soon as—”

“Where’s Noah?”

“He and Lucy made it home. He’s fine. Everything’s fine. They know we’re here, they’re working on getting a crew out. All we have to do is sit tight. Stop taking your clothes off,” she added as he tugged his shirt from his trousers, undid the top two buttons, and pulled it and his tie up over his head, leaving himself in his white undershirt. He tossed the articles onto his jacket, over his briefcase on the floor.

“I’m too hot,” he said, pinching at the front of his undershirt but—thankfully—making no effort to remove it. “I know you’re right, of course you are, I just—” He waved a hand in the air. “I feel like I’m suffocating.”

“Look at me,” she said, reaching out to grab his arm. He stopped and looked at her. “You’re not suffocating. We’re here together, I’m right here, everything’s fine.”

He nodded, and she could see him making a concentrated effort to relax some of the tension in his body. He let out a breath and rolled his shoulders again, but a moment later he’d resumed pacing. “I just need to let out some nervous energy, I think.”

“Maybe it’s time to consider decaf,” she suggested to lighten the mood.

He cast her a sideways look, his lips quirking. “Not in this life,” he said. “I need the caffeine to keep up my cheerful disposition.”

“Is that what you call it?” she returned, giving him a skeptical look that made him chuckle.

“I’m hungry,” he said after a few moments.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m _starving_.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, barely. “You’re not starving, you’re looking to stress eat. I know you, remember?”

“Come on, you always have snacks in your purse.”

“I carry snacks when I’m with my _child_ —”

“Okay, gum, then. Please, I need something.”

She hesitated. “All I have are Altoids and…some edibles.”

It took a few seconds for the words to find their way through his brain’s buzz of white noise. His steps faltered and he paused in his pacing, turning to look at her. “What?” he asked, putting a sharp emphasis on the _t_.

She reached into her purse and pulled out an unmarked plastic baggie of gummy bears. “Fin gave them to me because he said I looked stressed. He’s lucky I don’t have the energy to make new friends.”

Barba looked from the bag to her face. “ _Weed gummies_?” he said, and she laughed at the combination of incredulity in his expression and disdain in his voice.

“I couldn’t leave them lying around my office and I obviously don’t want them anywhere near Noah, so I was trying to figure out the best—”

“Weed gummies,” he repeated, staring at her as though she’d lost her mind.

She sighed. “Actually, maybe you _should_ eat some. Since you’re _starving._ Maybe they’ll calm you down.”

“Pot makes me paranoid,” he said.

She laughed, though not unkindly. “Honey, you’re already paranoid,” she answered. “And anyway, how long has it been since you tried—”

“Never.”

“What?”

“No, I never did,” he said with a small shake of his head.

“You just said—”

“My mother would _know_ , Olivia,” he said. “Can you even im _a_ gine what she would’ve done to me? She probably would’ve dragged my ass back to Cuba.”

Benson laughed again. “Are you serious? You went to _Harvard_. You’re telling me that in all of high school and college, you never once smoked pot because you were afraid your mother—”

“This is not an irrational fear,” he cut in. His expression was full of earnest intensity. “It’s not like, you know,” he said, gesturing with a hand as he glanced around the elevator and grimaced. “She would know. You think Harvard was safe? She would’ve smelled it from two hundred miles, believe me.”

Benson resisted the urge to laugh only because she could see that he was doing everything he could to deal with what he knew was an irrational sense of panic trying to claw its way through him.

“Okay, well, she’s not here now, and the power’s off which means the camera’s not working. And it’s not like you’re going to get too stoned off one or two, Rafa, at most you’ll feel a buzz. They’ll lighten your mood a bit, take the edge off until we can get out of here.”

He lowered his chin and raised an eyebrow, spearing her with a look. “Are you offering me drugs, Lieutenant Benson?” he asked.

She laughed again. “See, it’s already helping,” she said, glad that he was able to cling to his sense of humor. “Come on, look, sit down, alright? We’ll sit, we’ll relax. Trust me.”

He searched her face. She could feel the nervousness radiating from him as he fought his urge to fidget, to walk, to jab at the elevator buttons or pound on the door. “Always,” he said, managing a small smile.

“Sit,” she said, swinging her purse down to the floor with his briefcase and clothes.

He lowered himself to the floor against the wall, but he wrinkled his nose, asking, “How often do they clean in here?”

She sat beside him with their shoulders and arms touching. “God, you’re shaking,” she said. “You really are freaking out.”

“I feel like I’m gonna jump out of my skin,” he admitted, looking at her with open vulnerability. “I know it’s stupid but I can’t…”

“I’ve just never seen you like this,” she said, and it was true. She’d seen him afraid, and under stress, but never at this level. Even death threats and prison riots hadn’t affected him like this. “It’s okay, I’m right here with you. Here, eat a couple of these, really.” She handed him the bag, and he looked at it in his hand as though it might bite him.

“You don’t look stressed,” he said as he eyed the gummies. He glanced at her. “For the record.”

She smiled. “Sure I do, but thanks.” She bumped her arm against his. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling open the bag. He popped a bear into his mouth and chewed with a grimace.

“So, I was thinking we could go to the zoo next weekend, if you want?” she said. “Maybe Sunday afternoon.”

“Sure,” he answered, already chewing a second gummy bear. “I have Saturday—” He broke off as his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he shifted a hip, fishing out the cell. He looked at the screen and his eyes widened in alarm. He made a small sound in his throat and tossed the phone into Benson’s lap.

“What the—”

“I told you,” he said. “Oh, God. This is your fault. Help.”

She lifted the phone and saw his mother’s face on the screen. She almost laughed, but she could sense his distress. “It’s a coincidence. For crying out loud Rafael, here, answer it. I’m right here, nothing bad will happen, I promise,” she said, holding out the phone.

He took it with trembling fingers, still holding the bag of candy in his other hand. He swallowed as he answered the phone, and then he closed his eyes as he raised the cell to his ear. “Hello, Mom,” he said cautiously. “What? Nothing. Why?”

Benson put a hand on his arm. “ _Breathe_ ,” she whispered, because he sounded defensive and agitated.

He pulled in a breath. “Nothing’s wrong, I don’t sound funny. I’m not funny,” he said. He paused, listening. “ _I’m not being snippy_ —”

Benson snatched the phone out of his hand. “Hello, Lucia? It’s Olivia,” she said, cutting off his mother’s rapid-fire Spanish. “No, too much coffee, I think. You know him,” she said. Beside her, Barba leaned his head back against the wall with an audible thunk. “Listen, I wanted to ask if you’d like to go to the zoo on Sunday? Me and Noah—yes, after church, that’s fine. I’ll make sure Rafa calls you back when he’s not so cranky.” She listened for a few seconds and laughed. “Well, I try.” She glanced at Barba as he shoved several gummy bears into his mouth and chewed with unnecessary force. “Alright, I’ll tell him. Here, just a second.” She held the phone near Barba’s mouth. “Say you’re sorry,” she murmured under her breath.

He stored the chewed candy in his cheek and gave Benson the look of a cornered rabbit. “ _Lo siento, Mami. Te amo_ ,” he said.

Benson returned the phone to her own ear. “Yeah, okay, see you Sunday, Lucia. Bye.” She ended the call and turned her head to look at Barba. “You’re almost fifty years old—”

“No need to be mean.”

“—and you’re _still_ worried your mother will catch you—”

“The fear of God is nothing to the fear of a Cuban catholic mother.” He swallowed his mouthful of gummy candy. “Don’t think I won’t tell her you gave it to me.”

“I know you’re under a lot of stress right now, so we can revisit this later when you’re in better shape.”

“What did she say?”

“She wants you to be at her place on Saturday at three because someone is coming to fix her washing machine and you’re the one who made her get the washer so you have to deal with the consequences.”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “She’s going to know. She said I sounded funny.”

“You did,” she said. “You sounded like she caught you in the middle of—”

“Careful,” he cut in, and she laughed.

“Burying a body,” she suggested. “But she doesn’t know anything—there’s nothing _to_ know. You’d literally just put the damned thing in your mouth.”

“I’ll probably blurt it out as soon as she looks at me.” She gave an exasperated huff of laughter in response, and he suddenly grinned at her. “You were great, though. Lot of experience?”

She rolled her eyes. “We can discuss the mistakes of youth later. You do seem to be feeling a little better, though, huh?”

He sighed. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he answered. “Thank you.”

She patted his shoulder and smiled. “I’m always here, you know that,” she said.

“Yeah.”

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She reached over and settled her hand onto his leg. “Let me know when you start to see pink elephants,” she said.

He laughed and covered her hand with his. “And you’ll protect me from them?”

“Of course. But they’re usually friendly,” she answered without opening her eyes. She heard the rustle of plastic, but he didn’t take his hand from hers. They lapsed into near-silence. She could feel him relaxing, and she was glad.

After a couple of minutes, he said, “You’re right, it’s not very warm in here.”

She smiled and opened her eyes, turning her head to look at him. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t take your pants off.”

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t want anyone to think I was taking advantage. When the doors open.”

He grinned at her.

She looked down at the empty bag in his hand. “You ate _all of them_?” she asked, more amused than alarmed.

He also looked at the bag. “Shit,” he said. “Am I gonna die?”

She laughed, turning her hand over to lace her fingers with his. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mother it was an accident.”

“Thanks.”

“Feel anything?”

“I have no idea.” He smiled, watching her laugh. “Hey, Liv, don’t tell Noah I freaked out about being stuck in an elevator?”

She raised her eyebrows. “He’s who you’re worried about? Not the squad?”

He made a face. “Eh, I can handle them. I just don’t want Noah to—”

“Know you’re human?”

He smiled again. “Exactly.”

“He loves you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You being afraid of something won’t change the way he sees you.”

“No? What about you?” he asked. He was still smiling as he searched her face. “You beginning to doubt all that… _masculine energy_ I normally give off?”

She squinted at him. “You hitting on me, Barba?”

“Badly,” he laughed. She was glad to see the twinkle of humor in his eyes, and to know that he’d gotten his fear under control.

“Hmm. What was in those gummy bears?”

He laughed again, rubbing his thumb against her wrist. “Sugar and gelatin and little-to-no THC, I’m guessing.”

“Only two of them,” she said. “The green ones. They’re low dose but you’re probably still going to feel it in a bit.”

“But you never would’ve left me unsupervised with a whole bag of pot candy. You know I have no willpower.”

She smiled at him. “No. Although I didn’t know you’ve never tried it. God, you should’ve seen the panic in your eyes when your mother—”

He leaned in and kissed her; the pressure of his lips was light, but she could feel the emotion behind the kiss. She tightened her grip on his fingers, and he raised his other hand to her cheek. He drew a breath through his nose and rested his forehead against hers for a few seconds before drawing back to look at her.

“Thank you,” he said. “For…always being what I need.”

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Freezing,” he laughed. They both looked up as the lights flickered and then brightened. “Oh, God. Did you see that or is it the drugs kicking in?” They heard the hum of returning power and looked at each other. “Looks like I’ll be lucky enough to be stoned for the first time in the comfort of my own home,” he said. He frowned. “It hasn’t been an hour, has it?”

“No. Maybe the DEA got them to hurry.”

He snorted. “My mother called them. If the power’s on, why aren’t we moving?”

“We are,” she said. A moment later, the elevator dinged and the doors opened with a whoosh.

“Oh. Shit,” Barba said, and she laughed at the look on his face.

“You’ll be fine. Come on.”

 

*       *       *

 

“Thanks, Lucy,” Benson said, closing the door behind the babysitter. She turned to look at Barba.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Would you relax? I promise you don’t smell like pot,” she whispered.

“Of course you’d say that, you’re my dealer,” he shot back with a grin.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Go, then. I’ll start dinner. You probably _are_ hungry, now.”

Barba turned away and drew up short when he saw Noah in the living room. “Where were you guys?” the boy asked.

“We were stuck in the elevator for seven hours,” Barba said.

“Really?” Noah asked, his eyes widening.

“No, not really,” Benson said. “We were stuck in the elevator when the power went off, but it was less than an hour.”

“Were you scared?” Noah asked, looking from her to Barba.

“Terrified,” Barba said.

“Rafael,” Benson said, caught between amusement and exasperation.

“Luckily your mom was there to keep me calm. She’s a lot braver than I am,” Barba added, shooting her a crooked smile.

“Can I stay the night with Andy?” Noah asked, evidently unconcerned by their ordeal.

“That sounds like fun,” Benson said, and Barba almost laughed at her eagerness. “Did he ask his parents?”

“Yeah but we were just waiting for you to get home. Lucy wouldn’t let me call and ask.”

“Okay. Go get your stuff ready and I’ll walk you down. We have to take the stairs in case the power goes off again.”

“Okay,” Noah agreed. He turned toward his bedroom and hesitated, looking back at Barba. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“You weren’t scared when that real big spider was on my bed, so I think you’re brave.”

“Thanks, _mijo_ ,” Barba said with a laugh. “Have fun with Andy, alright? I’ll see you in the morning. _Te amo._ ”

“Love you, too,” Noah answered as he went into his bedroom.

Benson walked over to Barba. “Take your shower, but promise you won’t do anything—for God’s sake don’t even think about leaving the apartment—until I get back. If you start to freak out, just sit down somewhere and wait, I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Promise.”

“I promise. Liv. Can we make out? I feel a little buzzy and I think it could be fun.”

She laughed. “We’ll see how you feel in half an hour, Barba. It’s not off the table,” she added, giving him a quick kiss before turning away. “I have a feeling you’ll be more interested in food, though.”

“Can’t I have both?” he asked behind her, adding a little whine to his voice.

She laughed again. “We’ll see.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Slip into something sexy while I’m gone.”

He held out his arms and said with a grin: “I already gave you a strip tease.”

“Right. I guess I owe you,” she answered, and his grin widened.


End file.
